


I'll Carry You

by midnight_cowboy



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: (except it's complicated and canon-compliant now), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, English keeps being not my native language, Gen, Invisibility, Lonely!Wilde, Memory Alteration, Quarantine mention/description, References to Depression, Spoilers, post RQG152 spoilers, there's a SWEAR!! but only one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:41:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23830243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnight_cowboy/pseuds/midnight_cowboy
Summary: It's as if someone's been lost; but everyone is there, safe and sound. Aren't they?Or Wilde is Alone, and that's alright.
Relationships: Celiquillithon "Cel" Sidebottom & Oscar Wilde
Comments: 8
Kudos: 45





	I'll Carry You

**Author's Note:**

> all the thanks to the The Red String Brigade (aka TO THE ROGERS), specifically [BaronetCoins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaronetCoins), by hitting me with Lonely!Wilde so hard I blacked out and came out with this fic. all of you are THE BEST

They finally come back to the inn, bone tired after their mission, and as Zolf passes through the door entrance, there's a sudden shiver that goes through the entirety of his body - and then it's gone, like nothing ever happened.

(Except he feels even _more_ tired, and as if he forgot something, this nagging feeling throbbing in his temples.)

“Well”, he says as he sharply turns to the rest of the party, who are also looking sort of… lost, and then pulling themselves back together, “We’ll have no way of figuring out which one of the groups has blue veins and which is not, so we just have to trust the innkeeper on this one, and take the entirety of the basement as a quarantine zone.”

Barnes nods along, since that is sensible, with Azu and Hamid sharing a tired look, but in agreement rather than in protest. It’s Carter who keeps… looking around, as if waiting for something, and Cel, fidgeting with everything on themselves with a deep frown.

“I understand that’s less than… optimal. But it will have to do for now.”

 _The mission comes first, after all_ , Zolf says to himself.

He doesn’t understand why these words feel as if a cold hand is clutching his heart.

***

Azu feels trapped, and scared, and tired, and also deeply sad, and the last one is making her very confused.

It’s not the sadness itself, which is very suitable to all the situations happening all at once, reminding her about them with every passing moment.

It’s the way that sadness weaves itself inside Azu: there’s the sadness for the kobolds and their plight, tinged with rage against Shoin; there’s sadness for her friends, the ones that are here with her in the quarantine, and the ones left behind, guilt choking her with tears she won’t spill; there’s sadness for the entire world, broken and in a state of insidious war, all consuming, but muted on how the scale itself is unbearable for her.

And then there’s this sad, _sad_ feeling, deep inside of her, that is weeping for something… gone. An absence, a confusion.

When she realises that, she moves both Zolf and Cel, drifted off in not-yet-deep sleep in their sleeping pile _just_ a bit closer to her, and repositions Hamid in her lap, feeling as if she needs to check again, and again, and again, if someone is gone.

Azu sends a quick prayer to Aphrodite to watch over all of her friends, to not let them be lost and forgotten, so scared and confused she is, and then stands watch.

It’s the fourth day of their Isolation, and she worries it somehow affects them _wrong_.

***

‘Pop!’ go the joints in Hamid’s knuckles as he cracks them, satisfied with the first round of work he and Zolf had done in the first evening of their work after being released from the basement. 

It’s _good_ work – the first drafts of their report, compilation of everything pertaining to the mission, compiling reports from other sources with what they’ve learned in Shoin’s Institute.

What feels _not_ good is this sense of… hollowness, that he knows all of them feel for some reason. Even Cel and Carter are both subdued, with alchemist poring over their books brought here from the teashop with an uncharacteristic tightness of their lips, and Howard either trying some lame puns on everyone (which somehow hit _hard_ with that hollow feeling, why they even can do that?), or doing some training along with Azu and Barnes.

What also feels not good is how amplified the hollowness is in The Office. Capitalised in Hamid’s head, because of the tone with which Zolf said that. It’s their workplace, main hub of all the reports, letters, resources compiled together neatly in a system Zolf fondly calls _overcomplicated_ – and then shakes his head, as if he doesn’t know why he said that.

What also feels not good is how both of them, as they work, keep trying to talk to each other – and are cut off mid talking by themselves, not knowing why they try to include someone else.

What also feels not good is how sometimes Zolf tries to include himself in Hamid’s space, only to stagger away as if burnt when there settles a sense of… wrongness, of how they are.

But they do their work, and finish the first part faster than they thought they would.

(Sometimes, out of the corner of his eye, Hamid catches papers move, and when looked at they offer perfect explanations of their next point in the drafts, but neither detecting evil nor magic shows them anything, and after some time Zolf says to just accept that it’s the two of them moving the papers on accident and not really noticing.)

What also feels not really good _at all_ is leaving Zolf in The Office after everything’s done, because the dwarf says ‘he needs some space to himself’. And Hamid understands, he does – but also why the hell he feels like it’s the worst idea ever?

And what really tops off the ‘not good’ feelings of the day is Barnes. He’s at the entrance, staring at the paper in his hands, no – _clutching it_ , as if he can’t understand the words written, and Hamid feels his heart plummet.

“What, what is it? Bad news??” he asks, his voice rising in pitch against his will.

Barnes only shakes his head, and then, somewhat slowly, turns his bitten lips into a smile:

“No, just some rubbish I found that Zolf threw out. Look, someone probably wanted to impersonate our superiors at one point, but they couldn’t even learn the name of the bloke who’s running this cell!” he barks out a laugh then, handing Hamid the message.

His eyes skip over ornate writing, with rising O and jerky W somewhere on top, and weakly laughs himself:

“Yes, quite…”

He only then notices his hands are clawed, and when he tries to make them go away, they stubbornly stay that way, unchanged and now ripping the paper a bit.

Hamid then feels a pit in his stomach, trying to read that name again: _for how long has his hands been that way_?

***

It’s gentle and calm, on the other side.

Oscar breathes in the slightly salty breeze, no more mixed with the storm, and feels nothing. It’s almost soothing, if not for the driving force that still has him seized by the throat even here – the mission comes first. 

And then he can let go.

Wilde still eats, and drinks, and goes through every day as if it’s normal, but now… more efficient. He needs _less_ of everything, and spends no time interacting with people. It’s not how anything works for him anymore.

Maybe in the past he would’ve ached for the absence of friendly poking between Carter and Barnes, or wished to see more of Cel’s enthusiastic energy, or catch a glimpse of Azu and Hamid getting better and smil himself. Maybe in the past he would’ve missed the slightly burned meals, the contrast between the coldness of the outside and the fireplace in the inn, his banter with Zolf, and jokes, and camaraderie, and work and _so much more_.

All he does now is work, and help his (not _anymore_ ) cell finish their part here. 

Oscar sees the tightness in everyone’s forms, how Zolf closes himself off in his (not _anymore_ ) office, how Azu and Barnes train together with cold determination, how quietly and reserved Carter and Cel talk over some work, how Hamid is running himself ragged trying to bring some joy into everyone’s lives.

But that’s alright. When the mission’s over, they’re going to earn some rest, and, leaving this place, they’ll leave him and all related memories behind, the world no more knowing of him.

He stands on the cliff overlooking some of the area, the wind blowing right through him, and doesn’t feel.

And then he feels a hand catching his own, and catching him so thoroughly off-guard with the _solidness_ he almost falls down, but he’s yanked back by the same arm.

“There you are, buddy!” – and Wilde, wide eyed and utterly shocked, feeling for the first time in _weeks_ , is left to gape at Cel’s smiling face, their eyes in large goggles looking not through, but right _at_ him.

***

Let it be known that Celiquillithon Sidebottom, when faced with an obstacle of an impossible threat that somehow affects everyone’s memories, thoughts, and perceptions of reality, isn’t a _fucking coward_ , and then beats these unbelievable odds with the help of their own wits, brain (well they _could_ have used Shoin’s as well but that! was _not_ the point!!) and some quick research producing a wonder of engineering! Though that part was _easy_.

What was really hard is determining the cause of said improbable obstacle! You see, Cel can admit they can be forgetful, _all the time_. But! That’s a natural inclination of their own mind, and they can remember stuff back up by the snap of their fingers!

O-kay, _several_ snaps of their fingers. Still.

Things were this way: there was a constant, very nagging feeling of losing something important, and the very first day Cel checked e-ve-ry-thing. Shoin’s borb? Checked, new water breathing potion supply? Checked, their equipment? Well _duh_ , and their friends, of course, several times again and again and inbetween! They couldn’t have forgotten something with the kobolds, and even if they did, the little buddies really would need all the help they could get. Jasper? No; obviously, they thought about their apprentice _all the time_ , and from the distant look at the village everything seemed fine, and even if there was a problem, this tugging feeling couldn’t be related to Jasper, since Cel had a very particular difference between these two.

Ergo, something else was afoot! 

And the following days only continued to confirm their suspicions – with Zolf’s lost looks, closed off demeanor, losing himself to work; with Azu’s overprotectiveness, her checking up again and again on each of them in a way that was a little too much; with Hamid’s shaking form, claws constantly on the ready, feeling something subconsciously. Even Barnes, to whom they were introduced very much recently, was so _different_ from himself back in the tunnels.

All of THAT! Was not normal!

At least not ‘Cel-with-this-group’ normal.

Carter and them are on their way to check up on the village, Azu slightly in front of them, when he starts to talk:

“You know”, Howard says in a low voice, “I was under a curse, for some time? And for some reason, this whole”, he makes a gesture with his left hand that _presumably_ meant to describe the situation, but instead looks as if he was flopping a fish around, “ _thing_ feels really similar? As if I am underwater and can’t figure out how to float back to the surface?”

Cel makes a noise of agreement, trying _really hard_ not to hurry him up to make his point, which is going to be really important, they just... can feel it.

“It’s as if there should be more of us! Like we lost someone and don’t even know about it, like we keep tiptoeing around the issue, but the thing is – there’s nothing, no one to tiptoe around! And--” That’s where he’s cut off by Cel, who shakes him enthusiastically by the shoulders with the wildest grin on their face.

“Howard. Buddy. You are _so right._ ”

“I am?!” he almost squeaks, and then gets pulled into a very, very tight hug.

The next couple of days are a blur of Cel pulling every book they can get their hands on, Carter helping along and being more of a nuisance to others to understand how _bad_ everything is, them together cracking their heads on the issue, and then – a breakthrough.

“These glasses, you see?” Cel shifts them off their eyes, and then back down to show their pupil unfocusing when looking at Wilde without the lenses, “They’re like seeing everything’s true nature, right? And you, wow, it’s as if someone wanted you to be displaced from this reality entirely! Good thing we got ‘em working, and now you can be guided right-y out of the curse, and”, they point with the right hand upwards, a satisfied grin on their face, “So you won’t worry about no infection at all, I had to look at you for, like, eight days, and very sneaky like, which I am not the best at, but in my opinion you don’t look like you have any blue veins, unless we count, y’know, the natural colour of our actual veins? I-I think that’s right, at least.”

“No, this can’t be… right”, Oscar whispers under his breath, once again throughout Cel’s monologue staring down at his hand, which is still interlinking with theirs.

(pointedly ignoring the hammering heart in his chest)

“Well no, I think I am, in fact, right on the biological--”

“No, I mean”, he waves his free hand in the direction of the inn, “How can this be right? If someone wanted me gone, why not just infect me and be done with it?”

Cel’s face, bright and happy, falls a bit, a mixture of disbelief and sadness now:

“You really don’t get it? Wow, Wilde, you--” And they start gesticulating, not letting his hand go, getting more angry and vibrant with each word: “This whole curse-thingamajic wouldn’t make the world forget you, _obviously_! They, _we_ would remember you the moment we left this shore! And you’d waste away, an-and then we’d feel bad, _worse_ than that, and that's like forty-two times worse than if we knew you were taken by the infection, and everything is already _poopy_ without you!! Everyone is miserable and misses you lots, even if they don’t _know_ they miss you, because that’s what the stupid curse does!” 

There’s silence afterwards, broken by heavy breathing and sound of the waves softly breaking on the shore. Wilde won’t let himself look back up, and tries his hardest not to believe in this, in this…

“Buddy? I really don’t want to lose you”, Cel’s hand grips a bit harder, and his breath hitches. “I don’t want to lose _anyone_ , really, but… I saw how everyone missed you, and now I want to know you more too? A lot more? And, and”, when Oscar looks up at them, their eyes are a bit red now, but they are smiling. “I think you miss us too.”

He-- he really wants to feel again, really wants to say something, to _explain_ , but he just can’t! It’s like a trap, that keeps calling and tugging and making you want _not to_ feel.

And that’s why Cel says:

“Yeah, I know, it’s hard, _real hard_ , but I think we’re a mission worth takin on, right?”

And it’s like the floodgates had opened.

And he keeps trying to laugh, or cry, or scream, or croak something comprehensible, but he just leans in as Cel tugs him close by the shoulders, smile finally forming on his lips and silent tears flowing down.

They stand like that, until the commotion at the inn is so loud that both of them are suddenly shaken by Carter’s piercing scream of “YOU DID IT!”

Cel laughs, and Wilde does so with all he has in himself as well.

“Let’s go, Oscar?” And they tug him by the hand, still interlinked.

He grips their hand back, stronger than ever in weeks.

“Let’s."

**Author's Note:**

> and then the two of them get WRECKED by the group tackle hug they get!!
> 
> i'm also on [tumblr](https://rinnannon.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/rinnannon).


End file.
